The Birthday Gift
by dreamflower02
Summary: So far as is known, Gandalf only ever made one magical artifact, as a gift to one dear friend. Here is the story behind one of the Shire's most famous birthday gifts. Originally written in 2011 as my birthday mathom for my friends. One shot.


(A/N: This story takes place between Midsummer of S.R. 1230 to Midsummer of S.R. 1231, when Gerontius would have been 40 and 41, respectively.)

**The Birthday Gift**

"Oh bother! I've done it again!"

"Whatever is the matter, my old friend?" Gandalf pulled his attention away from the hobbits dancing by the bonfire and glanced down at the hobbit by his side.

Gerontius sighed. "I've gone and lost my shirt studs _again_! They were a gift from my mother, as well, though thankfully not _this_ year's gift."

"By the way, Gerontius, I must thank you again for my beautiful gift. I do not believe I have ever received a birthday gift before." Gandalf took the wonderfully carved pipe from his pocket and admired it once more.

"What? Never?" Gerontius looked shocked. "I know that you told me that among the other races the gifts are received by the _byrding_ rather than given. Did no one ever give you a gift on your own birthday?"

Gandalf laughed. "My birthday? If I even have such a day it is lost in the mists of time. I certainly do not know when it might be!"

The hobbit gave his friend a dubious look. "I cannot believe you are so old that you do not know your own birthday! But even so, to never have had a gift before?"

"I know you received gifts as well, Gerontius. I wish that I had brought one for you."

"Pah! Not necessary." He dismissed it with a casual wave of his hand, and then his attention was drawn to his shirt sleeve once more. "Although a set of studs I could not mislay would be useful." He chuckled. "Well, shirt studs or no, Gandalf, I can't miss a chance to dance with the fair Adamanta Chubb." He trotted away, leaving the wizard leaning thoughtfully on his staff.

"Tharkûn!"

The wizard bowed low. "Thrór!"

The Dwarf-king waved a hand at his counselors. "Leave us that I may speak with Tharkûn alone."

The other Dwarves filed out obediently. Thrór rose from his elaborately carved chair at the center of the table, and walked down to the end, where a finely crafted glass carafe held wine so red as to be nearly black. He poured some into two goblets of gold, and proffered one to Gandalf, motioning him to take a seat.

"What news bring you of other lands, Tharkûn?"

Gandalf shook his head. "Little enough news in the world now; all the Wise are watchful and wary of this brief time of peace, while simple folk think that things will ever be this way. It takes scarcely a generation of peace to bring forgetfulness."

Thrór nodded. "For Men, a generation is far too short. Elves forget nothing, especially grievances."

Gandalf arched a brow at his host, and his eyes twinkled, but he said nothing.

"Ah! I know. Dwarves can remember their grievances very well also." He looked at his guest thoughtfully. "If you have no news, then why did you come?" He asked bluntly.

"It was on my way. And yet I have a purpose, frivolous though you might think it."

"Can it be that you are going to allow the Dwarves of Erebor to repay the debt of honour we owe you at last?" For Thrór's father Dain had been slain by a dragon, a young firedrake, which had come upon him in the Iron Mountains. Gandalf had retrieved the body of the slain Dwarf-king at no small peril to himself, but he had refused any repayment.

"I have it in mind to make a small gift to a friend of mine who lives West of the Misty Mountains. And I would like to assist in its making."

By the time Gandalf had finished up his business at the Lonely Mountain, taken counsel with Thranduil in Mirkwood as the Greenwood was now coming to be known, and then stopped to report to Saruman at Isengard, very nearly a year had passed since he had left the Shire. It was with a sigh of relief that his weary feet brought him across the Brandywine at Sarn Ford, and he could breathe again the clean air of the Green Hills of the Tooklands.

It was on the morning of the thirtieth of Forelithe, in the year 1231 as the Shire-hobbits reckon these things, that he found himself once more rapping upon the Great Doors of the Great Smials. He was aware of the hidden watchers, and the not so hidden, who were finding excuses to stare at him. Some of the adults, he was sure, with suspicion, but the children would be glad of him and of his fireworks.

He was led to the Thain's apartments, where he found Thain Fortinbras at second breakfast with his family. Gerontius leapt from his seat and rushed to greet him. "Gandalf! How good to see you!"

Gandalf knelt and returned his small friend's warm embrace. "I am most pleased to see you as well, Gerontius Took! I have a birthday present for you." He drew a small box from his pocket and handed it to Gerontius.

The hobbit grinned with delight. "Oh Gandalf! A gift! And you even remembered to bring it today instead of tomorrow!" He opened the box, and was startled into a burst of laughter at the sight of the wonderfully wrought diamond shirt studs that glittered there.

"I hope that I shan't lose these," he laughed, "for no one will give me any now, I have lost so many! These may be the last pair I ever get."

Gandalf smiled. "You shan't lose them. Open them."

But he could not. He gave Gandalf a puzzled look, for it simply was not done for a hobbit to criticize a gift.

Gandalf leaned forward and whispered in his ear: "Say to them _'Edro!'_.

Gerontius looked taken aback, but looked at them and, whispering also, for he did not wish his curious family, who were watching avidly from the table, to overhear. _"Edro!_"* They instantly fell open.

With a delighted laugh, Gerontius set them each into a shirt cuff. Then he attempted to close them. They fell opening again. And again.

"Say to them _'Tafnen!'**_"

Gerontius did so, and without his touching them in any way, they fell closed with a click.

"You must promise me that you will never reveal the words to any but your heir."

Gerontius grinned and nodded. "And may that day be not too far off, Gandalf, for I'm to announce my betrothal to Adamanta Chubb tomorrow!"

"Are you now? Perhaps I shall have to be in the Shire for your wedding." He glanced down at Gerontius, and suddenly had a vision of a great many young hobbits standing around him. He blinked and the instant was gone, but he knew the seeing for a true one, and he smiled. "Oh," he said artlessly, "I am quite certain that your marriage will be a fruitful one," and had the satisfaction of seeing Gerontius blush.

_*Edro_ means "open" as a verb, according to the Hisweloke - Sindarin English dictionary

_**Tefnin_ means "closed" as an adjective according to the Hisweloke - Sindarin English dictionary ; I could not find the word for "closed" or "shut" as a verb. If any experts in Sindarin would like to help me out with that it would be much appreciated.

[AUTHOR'S NOTES: The magical diamond shirt studs are canon: _"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered?' (The Hobbit, Chapter 1, "An Unexpected Party")_

I wanted some reason for the Dwarves to feel indebted to Gandalf, as it seems clear that he never had much in the way of possessions, and so it might be difficult for him to buy the diamonds from them. I thought I might have to make it up out of whole cloth, but lo and behold, I found a tiny little thread in the Tale of Years on which to hang my idea: _2589 Dain I slain by a dragon (Lord of the Rings, Appendix B, The Tale of Years) _It's in my mind that this dragon might have been a young Smaug, and that this encounter was what whetted his appetite for Dwarven treasure. At any rate, recovering Dain I's body seems both like something Gandalf would do, as well as being something that the Dwarves would feel they owed him for.

Also, according to the ToY, there was not much going on in the years I chose, meaning that Gandalf might very well have the time for leisurely visits to the Shire.

I put Gerontius' birthday on Lithe, since my own birthday is July 1.]


End file.
